


Care for a waltz ?

by Cyberbab



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Missing Scene, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberbab/pseuds/Cyberbab
Summary: Here is a missing scene at the end of S3E6 "Murder at the grand". I was so frustrated to see the episode end like this. I feel like something was missing, and the waltz was definitely a better romantic overture than the odd "telescope" thing in S3E8.So here is my version ! I hope you'll enjoy it.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	Care for a waltz ?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello !   
> I discovered MFMM a few months ago and definitely fell in love with these awesome and endearing characters. I think the show is both beautiful to watch and very well-written.   
> Here is my very first work.   
> English isn't my mother tongue. Huge thanks to propangel for the beta reading !

As Jack entered the Twilight Room, he knew her father would avoid her questions and upset her. He clearly noted her father had a strong hold on her and that idea made him feel hopelessly helpless.

He had nothing better to do than pacing and looking around him, waiting for her. The twilight room was beautifully decorated. A little old-fashioned, but very well maintained. His eyes fell on the majestic, recently varnished wooden floor.

It reminded him how his wife Rosie loved dancing, and how he liked holding her and making her laugh. They used to enjoy attending the Police and Firemen’s ball. As A police officers’ daughter and wife, Rosie considered this event as the most important of the year. And Jack was happy to go with her, proud to be her husband when other men stared enviously at her. Even after the war, when they started having regular fights, this ball was their favorite annual ritual and made them feel close and connected again, once a year.

The only exception was the very last year before the divorce. Rosie had moved out, and Jack didn’t feel the courage to invite her out and pretend being a happy man in front of all Melbourne’s constabulary (including his father-in-law).

Firm footsteps pulled him out of his nostalgic reverie. Miss Fisher was standing in front of him, obviously irritated, as he expected. Her lips were tight and her cheeks flushed with anger.   
He couldn’t help thinking that it made her look more attractive, even if that idea was clearly not appropriate.  
Without surprise, she dryly told him that she couldn’t get any answer about the mysterious man.

Seeing her so upset moved him deeply. He couldn’t clearly think about what to do next. Then his hands were putting a random record in the gramophone and he was asking her to dance.

“Care for a waltz, Miss Fisher?” he said with an inviting arm gesture.

“Are you sure you want to risk it?”

“What’s the risk?”

Of course there was a risk. A huge one. And he was fully aware of it. But he couldn’t help it, he’d been burning for too long now and he decided it was time to move forward.

“Well, I have waltzed with the best. French presidents, English princes, American film stars.”

Her face was not nervous anymore, her father was forgotten and she happily jumped into the game he was offering. Following him in the center of the room, she threw her scarf on a chair and glanced at him with unashamed provocation.

“The waltz is a very serious dance.”

“And I’m a serious man.”

She knew he was serious man… her curiosity was piqued by his bold attitude.

“My mother lost all reason when she was waltzed.”

“Well, if she hadn’t, this would be a world without a certain Phryne Fisher in it”, he said, unfolding her fingers, “and what kind of world would that be?” placing his other hand on her upper back.  
Following the music, he put a light pressure between her shoulders and started swaying.

“Are you planning to make me lose my reason as well, Inspector?”

“I’m sure you already noticed that I’m not the kind of man who unveils his plan straight away, Miss Fisher. Besides, I cannot presume how my poor dancing skills would affect an excellent dancer like you,” he said, dragging her in a larger gliding motion.

“I must admit that your dancing skills are quite good.”

“Thank you. I do my best, even though I never got the chance to practice with English princesses or any other outstanding personality.”

“Shall I be offended that you don’t consider me outstanding enough?” she replied, insolently.

He made no answer and intensified his sober gaze locked on hers, as he was spinning them.

She could tell, watching him, how focused he was. He really did take this very seriously and was definitely not ready for further teasing yet. She switched to a more natural voice.

“Jack, would you tell me how you learned the waltz?”

“Mmm… I took a few lessons before my wedding.”

“That sounds like a good reason.”

“Indeed, I was terrified of looking ridiculous in front of my very new in-laws.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I don’t believe you haven’t danced for 16 years…”

“And…” he said hesitantly, “we used to attend the yearly Police and Firemen’s ball.”

She noticed the embarrassment in his tone.

“Ooo, I am sorry Jack, I didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”

Still spinning, he discreetly smiles at her.  
“Well, they’re actually not bad memories. I can even say they’re pretty good ones. But the point is I don’t really feel like mentioning my ex-marriage while…”

He stopped, thinking carefully about his next words… But she was faster than him.

“...While seducing another woman?” She said, looking up insistently.

Jack could find no words and started blushing. Luckily, like a divine intervention hearing his distress call, the music stopped. So did they.

“I believe our waltz is over, Miss Fisher,” he said with a slight touch of disappointment. He couldn’t let her go like this, with such a poor ending to this flirting game he had decided to invite her to. They were still standing, facing each other, holding hands. 

“How do you feel about a second dance?” 

“Please inspector… I hope you're not thinking I am already tired.”

“I would never think such thing, Miss Fisher!”

Hardly hiding his excitement, he went to the gramophone table and had a quick look at the pile of records.   
During the few minutes it took him to select a new record, turning his back to her, she kept watching him, observing her hands as he was putting the music on, wondering why she was feeling so confused in his presence.  
He chose a languorous and slow Chopin waltz, far more romantic and emotional than the first tune.  
He came back to her, took her hand with his, and lightly rested his other hand on her hip before he slid it to her back. The thin green silk was soft and warm. It felt like skin under his fingers. He noticed she briefly closed her eyes when his fingertips landed on her side, a pleasant indication of how welcomed his hand was on her body. His confidence started coming back, and they danced again.

Jack decided to break the heavy and charged silence between them and did his very best to sound casual.

“What about you, miss Fisher? How did you learn to be such a good dancer? Did you mother teach you?”

She smiled and looked relieved to be back in a well-known teasing atmosphere.  
“Surprisingly, no, she didn’t… My mother was really fond of dancing, especially the waltz… but she refused to teach me. I remember her saying that I was far too impulsive to be led by someone.”

“Were you?”

“Well Inspector, you are currently holding the leading position, so I let you form your own opinion,” she said, playfully.

“You still haven’t told me how you got your dancing skills…”

“Do you remember my friend Raymond, the cinematographer?”

“Of course I remember Raymond Hirsch, your friend, or shall I say your ‘old friend’?”

“My friend Raymond was my neighbor in Collingwood. He and I used to escape home at night, mostly in summer, to secretly attend balls and have some fun. The German community had wonderful parties with delicious wine and beer and entertaining music. “

“Wine and beer... how old were you at the time?”

“I’d say 15 or 16. But that was twenty years ago, Jack, you can’t charge me for that.”

“And did you meet your English princes, French presidents, and Americans actors at Melbourne’s German festivals? Or was it just a lie to impress me?”

“Jack, you very well know that I don’t need to lie to impress you, do I? Well then the war came, we moved to England and my parents became rich. It was much easier to be attending upper-class balls and improve my dancing abilities with bright and wealthy young men…”

“Any opportunities to practice more than dancing skills with those brilliant men?”

“Some of them were very handsome, elegant, highly educated…”

“Interesting…” he said unable to know if he was feeling amused or jealous. Or both.

“I recall one in particular, who used to quote me Shakespeare while we were dancing… It was incredibly stunning… Do you know Shakespeare, Jack?”

“I believe you already know the answer.”

“Do I? I must be losing my reason because I can’t recall…”

The last chords of Chopin’s waltz were slowly dying out. They were still standing in front of each other, her hands unmoved, enveloped in an eloquent silence when he eventually quoted Antony’s love words: 

“Egypt, thou knew'st too well  
My heart was to thy rudder tied by th'strings  
And thou shouldst tow me after.”

And he stopped talking, carefully observing the pupils of her eyes darkening and her breath slightly accelerating, mouth half open. He released her fingers to put both his hands on her hips, leaned forward, and gently kissed her, shyly brushing his lips on hers. Finally.

Eyes closed, Phryne went closer to him, parted her lips and immediately kissed him back, inviting him to be more daring. Very responsive to her unspoken signal, he made his kiss deeper and more passionate. His hands were pressing her body against him, encouraged by the muffled moans coming from her throat.

“Sarah Martin! Where are you?”

They suddenly came back to reality. Through the door they could hear Mrs. Cobb loudly hurtling down the stairs and barking distinctly at her young employee.

“Sarah! I told you many times to service the first floor rooms in priority. But you never listen to what I say, do you?”

Jack slowly ended their embrace, unable to take his eyes off of her.

She was also staring at him, her lips wet, her gaze lit up with arousal. She was trying to read him but couldn’t precisely tell what his expression was, an odd mix of delight and confusion.  
Afraid of a compromising interruption, he managed to break the spell and softly whispered:

“Phryne we should leave.”

“You're right. We've been disturbed too often the last two years to afford another embarrassing moment.”

He smiled, reluctantly removed his hands from her back and bit his lips, not knowing what to say.   
“I must go back to the station” 

“I am expected at Aunt P’s to organize an upcoming tennis tournament. May I suggest a supper invitation tonight? My father is currently heading to Lilydale, so I assume our privacy will be safe.”

“I already look forward to it”

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to leave your comments. Thank you for reading.


End file.
